Resolutions
by morgana07
Summary: This is a multi-POV story from my 'Not My Sammy' series, written shortly after the end of Fears & Dreams. It's New's Years Eve so what type of choices or resolutions will the Winchester brothers be making for 2011? What plan does Dean have for Sam?
1. Chapter 1

**Resolutions**

**Summary: **_This is a multi-POV story from my 'Not My Sammy' series, written shortly after the end of Fears & Dreams. It's New's Years Eve so what type of choices or resolutions will the Winchester brothers be making for 2011?_

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own the boys. Just using them for a brief moment._

**Rating: **_Should be general since there's no violence, gore, or mayhem. Maybe just a little cussing since Bobby and Dean wouldn't be normal without a few bad words._

**Tags: **_None specifically though there may be mention of previous events._

**A/N: **_I'm honestly not sure if you have to read the others in this series as I try to make them not too hard to follow._

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

**Sam's POV:**

Resolutions. I used to make them years ago and Jess always insisted we make a list of them but it's been awhile since I bothered with them. I mean, after the fire, Jess dying, finding out everything I did well it seemed a little moot to bother with resolutions for the New Year.

Between Dean going to Hell…for me (_yes, I do still brood on that_) to the whole demon blood/Ruby mess to setting Lucifer free and starting the Apocalypse to sacrificing myself in what I thought was a great plan to relock up the Devil…making little resolutions just didn't seem important.

A year…this past one…I don't have the greatest memories of this past year so I'll be thrilled when midnight comes and a new one starts. Between remembering the events in Stull where Lucifer used my body to beat the hell outta my brother. To dragging both Lucifer and Michael into the Cage with me for however long that was until Gabriel yanked me out to having my life stolen for a year by a damn shapeshifter working for a man who should've been my grandfather…yeah, I'm ready for a new year.

A noise from the kitchen makes me jump and I have to remind myself that it's just Bobby…doing whatever it is Bobby does on New Year's Eve since he's banished both me and Dean from the room. I've been jumpy since fully waking up from that last mess just a couple weeks ago. Though, I guess considering I had to put up with images of my dead girlfriend, memories that I didn't want, and finding out why Samuel wanted me and my brother dead, not to mention I died again, I suppose being a little jumpy can be excused.

I'm in the library right now trying to figure out if I even have any resolutions. Boo, the puppy that Bobby found, is chewing something that looks faintly like one of Dean's boots and…Dean is…I'm not sure where my brother is, which is weird since he's once again in hyper-manic protective mode.

He had eased off that until this happened and I can understand it. I mean, I know how hard that place, those images were for me so I can imagine what Dean saw. He's not open with that which tells me he saw things that he wants to protect me from.

We both came out this hurt. Bobby gripes about Winchester stubbornness but I'm more at ease letting Dean dress the wounds this time even though I know afterwards he goes out to far end of the junkyard and beats on cars. I don't mention it since I know it's his way of handling the anger that he can't get rid of any other way and at least he's here.

I'm still fighting the dreams and fears but I like to think that I'm better at it now. I know that Dean isn't leaving and that he'll be right here if I need him…hell, he's usually not two steps away now which is probably for the best since I'm still uneasy if I can't see him or know he's close. It'll be a long while before I get past that.

Dean's handled a lot since I've come back and I know he blames himself but this was just something that would've happened eventually. I wish I'd been able to tell Dean about my fears over Samuel but I didn't so now we cope. He's hovering over me again and I know it's pushing his big brother instincts to not lock me in the bedroom again but he knows that the only way I'll get strong again, get past the aftereffects of the drugs is to move around. Though the other day when I fell, I thought Bobby was going to knock him out before he stopped being manic about resting.

The nightmares are the worst. Even though I've told Dean a lot about things, I still have them and I suppose that's normal too since I was always prone to bad dreams. I've never once had one that Dean's not there before I wake up fully which makes me wonder if he's sleeping at all or staying awake in case I need him. I know after Lawrence and the 'shifter that he'd stay awake until he was certain I was safe. I'll have to broach that carefully but that brings me back to now.

New Year's Eve. Bobby's doing something and Dean's been gone since this afternoon, but not before telling me not to move from this spot, so I've been thinking about resolutions. I've been thinking about my life and the changes in it and since seeing my Mom in that image, I've been thinking a lot about my Dad.

I know Dean doesn't blames me for what happened between him and Dad but I still blames myself which is why I'll never tell Dean about the fights that Dad and I had when he wasn't around. Dean took on took much responsibility for me and I never understood all of that until recently. I know he protected me from Dad as much as he could but it was only recently that I've also come to understand that Dad and I were a lot alike…damn, that's scary. We both put my brother in the middle of something he couldn't contain. Dean loved us both and in the end he almost lost us both. I can't give him Dad back, I can't make up for the years of bitterness but I can give him something…I can maybe, finally, give him the little brother that he's been missing.

Writing 'be a better brother' on the paper looks stupid but it's what I hope to be. Dean's given up so much for me over the years and even though I know I should feel bad that he's not going back to Lisa, to a normal life, I can't feel that since I don't think I could do this without my brother.

The next thing I write is also the most important to both of us. I know that Dean wants me to have the leather jacket. After he saved me from the 'shifter, that jacket and his amulet were the two things besides my brother that pulled me through it. I still reach for it when I'm on edge and not once can I recall that it hasn't been readily available for just that purpose…in fact, I know if I look now it'll be over on the sofa seat even though I'd seen him wearing it this morning.

He'd given it to me around Thanksgiving but after waking up this time, after going through what I have I gave it back because I don't deserve it. That's what I want Dean to understand. It's not that I don't want the jacket because while it gives me a sense of security when he's not around it's also something else…it's tradition.

The jacket had been Dad's before it was Dean's so there's a matter of earning it and that's what I want. After everything I've done in my life, I want to be able to finally say that I earned the right to way that jacket. That I've made my brother proud of me and that's my biggest resolution. To have earned both the jacket and Dean's respect before this time next year.

"Hey, where'd that brother of yours get to?" Bobby was standing in the door covered in flour which again makes me worry since every time he tries to cook we end up at the diner in town.

I'm about to say that I don't know when I hear the familiar rumble of what is still the only home I've ever really known or wanted if I'm honest. "Guess we'll find out," I tell Bobby, whistling for Boo to drop the boot and chuckle when the puppy tears out of the room barking even though I know he'll scamper back when he sees it's just Dean.

"Take a coat or he'll banish your butt back inside!" Bobby yells but I'm already stepping out the door to see the Impala already parked and my brother getting out while trying to juggle two store bags, a large carton and not drop everything as Boo decides to play tug of war with his jeans.

I'm about to call the pup back when I hear my brother's laugh. Even though Dean's a bit more free with his emotions these days it's still rare for me to hear his full laugh. Normally it's a chuckle or a snort but it's rare for him to laugh fully these days with an honest smile.

"Sammy, call this mutt you call a ferocious guard dog offa me and then get your ass back inside until you get a damn jacket on!" he shouts at me without even glance at me which means he's in full big brother mode.

I call Boo back who happily goes to retrieve his newest toy, which I seriously hope is not one of Dean's new boots, and am reaching for a jacket when my brother enters the house with only the bags. "What's in the box?" I ask, figuring that if he left it outside he either didn't want Bobby to see it or he's up to something else.

"Mind your own business, geek-boy," he replies happily which makes me more than curious.

Dean happy after going to the store? Nah, he's up to something but before I can step out to find the box I feel his hand on my arm. "Where've you been and what's in the box Dean?" alright, I admit it. I hate mysteries and I hate it when my brother intentionally keeps things a secret like this…and he knows I hate it so that makes him worse.

"You have to wait until tonight to find out, Sammy," he tells me, pushing the door shut before I can open it and nudges me back toward the library. "Bobby says you've been up too long so take that mutt upstairs for a little while and try to sleep. I have to do something outside."

Wondering if he wants me upstairs to sleep for my own good or so I don't snoop into whatever he's planning, I stall a little. "I can help," I offer, knowing the reply even before I get the typical Dean smirk.

"Sammy, I barely let you change the Impala's oil when it's warm outside much less when it's below freezing, still snowing, and you can hardly stay awake now," he responds, choosing to just accept the library as a halfway point. When he sits next to me of the sofa seat by the window and I can tell by the way he shifts that he's come to some kind of decision.

"I was thinking in a couple days maybe we'd hit the road…if you feel like it," he says and I know that he's leaving this up to me.

I've known that Dean has wanted to be back hunting for awhile now but has stuck it out at Bobby's only so I could get stronger, get more at ease again. I know that if I hedged or seemed the least bit ill at ease about going back to hunting now he'd move us in here fully but that's now what I want.

I accepted that we needed to stay in one place for the first few months after he found me but that was only because I wasn't in the shape to be moving much less hunting. Now, despite the new traumas, I feel ready to be back on the road with Dean. I feel ready to finally do what we're supposed to be doing…carrying on the family business.

"Yeah," I reply after a second, meeting his eyes to see his concern. "That's fine but you'd better salt and burn these decorations like you promised Bobby first."

"Smart ass," he grins and I feel the absent squeeze of his hand on my neck before he heads back outside to do whatever it is he's sneaking around doing.

I could find out, I know that but it's pretty clear that whatever Dean's doing he wants it to be a surprise so as I decide to try to close my eyes on the sofa seat for a little while, I picture the coming months. I make a silent promise to make sure they're better than the last year and that Dean and I can do the things that Dad wanted us to. Hunt evil sons of bitches before they hurt others…and get the hell out of Bobby's hair before he kills my brother or…

"There ain't no way in hell you're doing that, ya flamin' idjit!" Bobby's shout warns me that whatever Dean's up to…it probably won't end well…for Bobby.

So I have three resolutions to start with: #1-Be a better brother, #2- Earn the right to wear Dean's jacket and #3…keep Bobby from killing Dean.

The third one might be hard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bobby's POV:**

New's Years Eve and resolutions go hand and hand or are supposed to. Since Karen died and I got into hunting, I stopped paying too much mind to those types of things. Usually I spend the holidays up to my neck in some form of hunt or doing research or if I count last year, passed out drunk…well, last year sucked in my opinion since I had one boy supposedly stuck in a hole in hell and the other falling apart in modern suburbia.

This year I've had 'em both here for all three of the major ones even if I did end up with a giant sleigh on my roof and I still want to know how the hell Dean got that Wendigo figure in that damn snowball out front.

This has been the longest I've had people in the house since usually the boys will come, hang out a few days to a week if one or the other was hurt seriously. Or like after the accident and the Impala was trash a month but this is going on almost four months if not longer and I'm surprised that Dean's not going stir crazy by now.

Don't get me wrong. I love having 'em here even though at times it reminds me of when they were boys and John would drop 'em off for weeks at a time. I couldn't turn around without tripping over one or the other and keepin' 'em out of mischief.

That's how I know they'll be hittin' the road soon. Even though he's still hoverin' over Sam, Dean's also been getting into stuff. Twice I've kicked him out of the basement because he was into stuff down there that shouldn't be messed with, not to mention his attempts at cooking have turned into worse disasters than Sam's attempt at washing clothes. If I don't get these two outta my house soon, I'll be needing new appliances.

I finally tossed Rufus out. Dealing with two Winchesters is one thing but throw Rufus into the mix and I was ready to ask the damn Sheriff to lock me up just to keep my sanity. I owe the old coot though. He stuck it out while we tried to find the boys and while they both recovered. Not to mention he helped me salt and burn that damn old man's corpse since there was no way in hell I was letting either Sam or Dean do that.

I know there's going to be further hassles with the Campbell family, especially when they find out about Samuel's death, but like I told Rufus I'll handle that when it comes because those boys sure didn't deserve what the old man did…especially to Sam.

Sam. I take a quick look to be sure he's still sitting at my desk in the library before I go back to figuring out dessert. His brother left earlier to go to the store but I couldn't get Dean outta the house before I got a laundry list of things his brother could and couldn't do.

Ever since Dean got Sam back a few months ago he's been bad in the over protective manic obsessive hovering stage. At first, I humored the kid. I mean, he had just found out that the brother he thought had been trapped in a Cage in Hell with Lucifer had been out but instead of being free he'd been held by a damn shapeshifter for nearly a year. So, I gave Dean leeway in the hovering stage…to a point.

When I figured Sam was doing pretty good I started trying to ease Dean off. Get him to allow Sam to come downstairs, or move around some and boy, did that cause some fights because Dean Winchester is his Daddy's son when it comes to being stubborn.

He had just started to relax, to allow Sam to do stuff on his own while still staying close since Sam had a limit too that I noticed. The past few years when the boys were so distant with one another, they could go for days being in this house without seeing one another, the past few months was a change back to when they'd been kids. Sam didn't like not knowing where his brother was and right after he woke up from being chained in that warehouse, he'd panic if Dean wasn't in eyesight. He'd gotten past that before Samuel made his last move and I've caught him tensing again if he can't find Dean right away. Another reason I wish I could kill that bastard again.

Since I became a hunter, I'd heard the tales of the Campbell family. Fierce, no nonsense hunters. I'd never met one and truth be told, I had no desire to. Meeting what I have since, I can honestly say that if I go the rest of my life without seein' another damn Campbell or have them come close to the boys, I'll be happy. They'd give hunters a bad name for just what they'll willin' to do…or maybe it was just old man Campbell who was willing to sell his family down the demon drain just to kill John and had it turned on him.

Thinking of New Year's and resolutions makes me think of John for some reason. Seeing him, or his spirit, in that building, reminded me of a lot of things that I'd forgotten or pushed aside when it came to John Winchester.

I mean, sure he was a stubborn, mule-headed son of a bitch and I cheerfully could've taken a shotgun to his hide more than once…threatened to on occasion, but seeing him there also reminded me that while he could be mean, nasty, and treated those boys like crap he also had his moments where he loved 'em more than his life.

First time I met John I wanted to slap him upside the head. No man in their right mind should take two small boys into this life and I harped on him all the damn time that he needed a stable base. Somewhere to leave Sam and Dean when he hunted but nope, he'd leave'em here with me or up in Blue Earth with Jim or at some crappy motels while he took off but he'd never consider letting them grow up in one place. I often wondered if he did that for himself or out of some misguided idea that to protect the boys he had to keep moving them.

There was a New Year's that John had gotten hurt on a hunt so he and the boys were here with me. Sam was probably about six while Dean woulda been ten. They were asleep so John and I were bringing in the New Year with a bottle of Jack. When John drank, he talked and on nights like that he talked about Mary and the life he wanted for the boys. Always made the same resolution, that next year would be the year he found the thing that killed her and then his boys would be safe. It never happened like that but it gave him something to hold onto…at least until the boys got older and the fights became more frequent.

Watching Sam in the library studying that piece of paper he'd been looking at since he sat down reminded me of how much that boy could be like John. His father could be scary intense when on a hunt and before the whole deal with Lucifer went down I saw a lot of John in Sam. I often think that's why Sam and John fought so much. They were too damn much alike. It was like putting two immovable objects against one another. There was bound to be sparks.

Oh, I don't mean that John wasn't an asshole most of the time and his temper got the better of him way too much. I know damn good and well that Jim would've taken both those boys if I'd told him half of what I could've. Dean was good at hiding things but I could still tell when he was hiding the bruises he'd get after John would get angry. I told John straight out that if he ever beat on either of those boys like he did after Sam ran away that I'd put a bullet in his head. I'm not stupid enough to think that he never did but I like to think that he always thought twice about it.

Seeing the pain in John's eyes in that building made me wonder if he regretted the crap he put those boys through or if he would've changed any of it if he could've. I'm not sure and it's a little too late now so all I can do is be there for Dean and Sam as much as possible. Those two are the closest things to sons I'll ever have and even though they drive me to drink at times and make me what to slap 'em at others, I wouldn't trade those two idjits for anything.

After the plan to make a pie literally blew up in my face (_Lord, how Karen could bake 'em I'll never know_) I figure it's time to check on Sam. He's still at the desk but he seems more relaxed than he did earlier which either means he's figured out what he's been trying to write all day or his brother's coming back…it's scary sometimes how those two boys seem to know where the other one is.

Hearing a growl, I happen to notice the pup I found…(_I'm stickin' to that story like I am the one about Jodi droppin' the tree off_) was chewing on one of Dean's new boots. Yep, that'll go over real good. "Where's that brother of yours?" I ask him, noticing that he still jumps if he's not expecting a sound. I also still catch him keeping that hand close to him which reminds me to see if either of them will let me check Sam's wounds.

"Not sure but…" Sam had started to reply when we both hear the Impala pulling up and I watch the kid's body language go from subtly tense to relaxed fully now that Dean's back. Then he's out of the library with the pup running ahead of him. "Grab a coat before he banishes your butt!" I shout to him but know the warnings too little too late at the sound of the front door. "Idjit's gonna have damn pneumonia before he's healed," I mutter, taking a look at the wrinkled paper Sam had been marking on all day to see he'd been making his own resolutions and what I saw made me frown.

#1-Be a better brother? Hell, how anyone could be a better brother is beyond me. Sam, since he'd been a baby, had adored his big brother. Except for the years he went to school and the last couple, I can't recall a time when Sam didn't look up to Dean. The kid still blames himself for the fights he and Dean had before and after the Apocalypse started. I've told Sam that nothing was really his fault, especially the day in Stull when Lucifer was wearing his skin but Sam's like John there too. Once he gets something in his head, there's no getting it out except when he's good and ready to let go.

#2-Earn the right to wear the jacket? So, that's what the damn issue is. I know that Dean's been lettin' his brother hold onto his leather jacket since we got the kid back but I also know that he literally gave Sam the jacket during Thanksgiving. Sam feel's more secure with it so both Dean and I were surprised when, after Sam woke up this time, that he gave it back to Dean while sayin' something about not deserving it. Damn John for how he raised those boys. Sam thinks he has to prove something to his brother to earn the right to wear the jacket that John gave to Dean and that Dean wants to give to Sam. Lord, Winchesters will be the death of me.

Wondering if Dean needs to see this, I put the paper back as I head back to the kitchen just as Dean's ushering Sam back inside while griping about him not using a jacket…like I wasn't expecting that. I turn to see the older Winchester tossing stuff from the store bags inside the refrigerator. "It took you that long just to run to the store?" I see a slight shift of his shoulders and pin Dean with a look. "What're you up to now?"

"Nothing, Bobby. Yeesh, give me a break," he tried the innocent look that usually only works for his brother but I know when he hightails it outta the kitchen to make a grab for Sam who's about to go out the front door after something that Dean's up to no good.

I wait until Dean's gotten his brother settled back in the library and has gone back outside to follow him. I'm hoping maybe the kid's going to do some actual work in the yard to make up for all the damage to the cars he does every time after he dresses Sam's wounds but no, I find him heading away from the house with a cardboard box.

"Do I even wanna know what you go planned in that head of yours, boy?" I ask after making sure he knows it's me coming up on him. Dean's got sharper reflexes these days and he's almost never without his .45 these days.

"Just a surprise for Sammy tonight," he answers quickly enough…too quickly and a surprise from Dean has never been a good thing so…

Moving around to see what was in the box and expecting the worst, I wasn't disappointed as I felt my stomach drop and my blood pressure shoot up. "There ain't no way in hell you're doing that, ya flamin' idjit!" I shout, trying to keep my voice down so Sam didn't get alarmed but at seeing what his brother was planning I had a right to shout.

"Bobby, trust me. I know what I'm doing," Dean promised with that solemn look that got me to agree to having my house decorated up for Christmas.

Damn, I'm going soft in the head as I just kick a rock and storm back to the house, hoping I still had one come 12:01 this morning.

My resolutions? Redo the wards and guards around my house, change my phone number so Rufus doesn't have it, and learn to say no to the damn Winchester charm before it kills me.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Dean's POV:**

New Year's Eve. It's been awhile since I've looked forward to one of those. I can honestly say that the last time I did I was probably twenty-two and that because it was the last one that Sam and I spent together before he left for college.

Ever since we got back together when I went to Stanford for him, it's been one bad thing after another that usually takes the thrill out of the whole dropping a giant ball and wiping the slate clean. The New Year's Eve before I went to Hell (_yeah, I know he still broods about that_) I spent it sobering Sammy up after he went out to a bar by himself, got into one hell of a brawl and got drunker than I have ever seen. Not so much fun watching the big ball in Times Square when you're holding your plastered kid brother as he pukes and cries at the same time. I've made sure all of Bobby's liquor is locked away…just in case.

Last year with Lisa I was the one plastered. I didn't want to ring in another year without Sam and I thought that's how it would be from then on…or until I got him outta the Cage. I still kick myself that I didn't know he was out…I suppose I should at least thank Gabriel for that, but then our so-called family sold him out to a damn 'shifter. Yeah, I'm still bitter about the whole damn shapeshifter using my kid brother's form thing, so sue me.

I got Sammy back and spent months getting him over the rough spots…mostly over them since he still had a hard time emotionally with stuff. Now, I guess I know why. Not only was he tortured physically and pumped full of drugs but he was also tortured emotionally and mentally too. Making him see the bad crap in our lives wasn't enough, they showed him the life I could have had if he wasn't around…yeah, like that was such a good life.

Garden gnomes, working 9-to-5 at a crap job, driving a pickup and doing soccer games and barbecues on the weekends. God, I'm still not sure why I didn't blow my own damn brains out after a month…ignoring the salt and burning of the gnome and the couple little incidents where I tried to take out the neighbors dog…never let anyone say that Yorkies aren't hellhounds in disguise.

Sammy was doing good even if he still had issues with me being out of his sight for longer periods than normal. I figured after Christmas, assuming Bobby hadn't killed me for the decorations, we'd hit the road again. I'd scoped a couple simple cases since I have no intention of throwing him back into the deep end of the pool. Then I did the stupid thing of going to Indiana to grab the rest of my stuff from Lisa and all hell broke loose.

I still don't know who, besides my Mom's sociopathic Father to blame for that mess. I mean, I know Cas's arch rival in Heaven had a hand in it but for all know so could've Crowley. All I know is that I nearly lost my little brother…again. I knew he's gone through hell mentally since I figured he'd see some crap but I wasn't expecting him to have seen all that he did. I thank whatever the hell was helping us that Sammy had Mom when he needed her. He's told me some of the stuff but I'm not stupid enough to think that he's told me everything from then or now. Sam doesn't open up like that without a fight even if he is still the most emotionally open chick-flick loving person I know.

I know he's still having problems this time from what the Campbells did to him while we were out of it. The beatings or burns weren't bad enough, I know other things happened. I just don't know if he knows it. I know he's curious about the wound on the back of his head but I won't ever tell him about that wire. The brand on his chest still breaks my heart to see his eyes over.

Bobby gripes because he won't let anyone but me touch him but hey, I can understand it. Sammy's not back to fully trusting people. I mean, he knows that Bobby would cut off a limb for us but after having our own so-called grandfather torture him twice…trust ain't coming easy to my little brother.

He hasn't taken to fully clinging to me again like he had after Lawrence but he will after a nightmare and those he still has nightly. Bobby's tossing hints about me not sleeping again but I do sleep…just after I know that Sam will be down for the night and then it's usually sleeping sitting up beside him. The only time he'll sleep through the night fully is if he's tired from doing too much that day, which I yell at him for, or if I can get him to hold my jacket before he sleeps. That still calms him down…like it used to when he was a baby and Dad would hold him while wearing it…but he's gotten it into his head that he doesn't deserve to be near the jacket or have it. I really need to figure that one out.

Bobby's been great with having his life and house turned upside down with us there. I know I laid on the whole Christmas thing a bit thick for Sam's sake but he's not going to tell me that the Sheriff just happened to drop off the very tree that I was looking at…uh-huh, yeah, pull the other one, old man. Christmas wasn't like I'd planned since Sam and I were both still hurt but I'll never forget his face the first time he sat in the Impala on Christmas Day, after I'd bundled him up like a huge geeky Sasquatch sized Eskimo, and turned that I-Pod thing on. It'll irk me to no end having that thing in my baby but hey, it made Sammy smile a real, full smile with dimples so I'll deal with it.

New Year's Eve. I often watched Dad make the same resolution every year. To find the thing that killed Mom. It never worked. Nothing ever changed for us. I used to make 'em in my head. Thing like, I'd make sure Sammy stayed in one school for more than a few weeks, or I'd make sure Sammy had a real home with a yard and a dog or I'd make Dad show Sam some kind of true attention that didn't involve yelling at him.

I stopped making 'em after awhile because I figured out that I could never give my brother those things. Hell, I couldn't even get him and Dad to stop fighting. The best resolution I could make that I knew I could keep, or I thought I could, was that I'd keep Sam safe from Dad's temper. Found out now that Sammy was keeping stuff from me and if I'd known that when I saw Dad or Dad's spirit or whatever the hell it was, I'd have taken at least one shot. Hell, I still wanna know what he and Caleb did with Stanton's body so I can dig it up, put a few rounds into it before I salt and burn the bastard.

Resolutions. I've been considering them this year since I have Sammy back and we have a chance at a fresh start. The first thing however is making this a New Year's Eve that my baby brother won't forget. Christmas was a dud but why not bring in 2011 with a bang, literally.

Bobby had needed stuff from the store today so I'd left him to babysit Sam with a list of do's and don't's that should've driven 'em both nuts but if I don't write it down he'll let Sam do anything he wants and there are still limits to what I'm willing to let the kid do. So, while I was gathering supplies for the dinner that Bobby swears will go off without a hitch…I used an EMF, holy water, silver, and said Cristo on the loin of pork to be sure before I bought it, I'm not planning on eating in that diner on New Years Day.

While I was out, I went to find some things for tonight that'll make Times Square look tame…and Bobby probably want to kill me but it's for Sam so he ought to know by know the lengths I'll go to for that kid and that goes for protecting him too.

Protect Sam. My mantra since I was four years old and never once have I regretted it. Sam thinks I blame him for Flagstaff, for the other crap in my life but I can't get him to understand that it's what I accepted a long time ago. Protecting him is what I do…not always what I'm good at but that's going to change. Hell, it has to since I'm not fool enough to think that Gwen and the others won't be coming after us again. Not only did I kill Christian but we're also responsible for Samuel's death. Neither an issue in my book since I ganked the asshole because he was going to kill my brother and Samuel…I wish I'd been the one to kill him so that didn't get laid on Sam but I can understand that it might've been better that he was the one who did it. Samuel hurt my brother in ways that I don't even think that bastard Stanton could.

Sammy had wanted to believe in family so much that he allowed himself to briefly trust Samuel and the others. They preyed on that trust and hurt him. Samuel died way too quickly if you ask me but then nobody did and all I can do is watch Sam's back. The next sonuvabitch who comes close to my brother dies since I'm back in shoot first, protect Sammy, and ask stupid questions last mode.

Looking at the box beside me, I think of another night. Sure, Dad was pissed when he came home but I'd made Sam happy and that's what I want for tonight. Driving up to Bobby's place, I think of Dad. There was so much I wanted to say to him…to Mom the other night but in the end, I couldn't. In the end I realized that what happened with Dad was done. It was in the past and while I'll never be able to fully put it aside, it was time to put him aside. Dad raised us as soldiers, not as sons but we grew up as brothers and that's what Sam and I'll always be…brothers. That's something that no one can break.

Parking the car, I'm trying to get out of the Impala with the store bags and the box when suddenly I feel little teeth in my jeans followed by the muffled yipping of an overly hyper but fierce, if you ask my geek brother, puppy and without looking I know where Sam's at…and I'm instantly not happy.

"Sam, get this fierce mutt you swear is a guard dog offa me and get your ass back inside until you get a jacket!" rolling my eyes, I swear it's like dealing with a five year old again when it was a struggle to get my brother into a winter coat.

With a whistle, the pup goes back to Sam and I put the box on the porch so I can keep brother, mentor, and pup out of it until I can set it up as I go inside to dump the groceries.

I see a war with a pie had started while I was gone and was glad I'd picked up a couple from the diner since if Bobby was anything, he wasn't a baker and I get out of there when he starts asking questions because I'm still too tired to work up the energy to lie to him.

Knowing he probably didn't buy a single word I'd said, I was muttering under my breath when I was just in time to catch Sam before he got out the door. Sammy always was a nosy brat, especially when he knew I was hiding something from him.

"Where were you and what's in the box, Dean?" he asks all in one breath, hand still on the knob when I aim him back toward the library and hopefully some rest since I can see he's getting tired. He's holding that hand too close to his body which means it's hurting him and his hair, God I still won't bitch about that, looks like he's been running his fingers through it…yep, sure signs that little brother is tired and fighting it.

"Never mind what's in the box," I tell him, nudging him onto the sofa seat before I sit next to him to broach something else. A new year should be about change and that's what I need to talk to him about. I tell him that if he's strong enough, after tomorrow, we might be hitting the road again. Then I wait to see his reaction.

Sam, since he came back, has slipped back into the way he always was with me and that means I can read him just by watching his face. After I tell him that we should consider leaving Bobby's, I wait. If he makes even the slightest bitch-face or frown or looks like he's not too comfortable with the idea yet then I put it on the back burner because the last thing I want to do is push him back out there.

Sam's eyes, yeah, he's tired because he's doing puppy dog eyes without even knowing it, looks at me and after a minute he shrugs and says fine but I should salt and burn the decorations before we leave. "Smart ass," I toss back, not really surprised since I'd been getting the feeling that Sammy was just about ready to hit the road again as I was…even though I still wasn't letting up on the over protective streak I was on since he was still hurt. "Get some sleep while I do something outside," I tell him, smirking at his offer to help and making a crack about changing the oil in the car.

I wait until I see he and the pup…that had damn well better not be one of my new boots or Sam dies, are drifting off before I grab the box off the porch but barely made it ten yards before Bobby's on my butt. Putting Sam off is one thing, but getting Bobby off of something is like pulling a Hellhound or a Yorkie off a victim so I'm not shocked at his reaction…

"There ain't no way in hell you're doing that, ya flamin' idjit!" he shouts at me and I restrain from shushing him since I sure as hell didn't want my brother out here yet.

"Bobby, trust me," I tell him, using every ounce of charm I have and throwing in the very puppy eyes that I taught Sam to use. "It'll be great tonight…unless you shoot dinner again."

I smirk as he stomps back to the house muttering about idjits, angels, and possessed loins of pork and I think I should tell him that I'd already tested that meat for demonic issues. It takes me the better part of the afternoon and evening to get things the way I want them and to figure out the timing for the fuses to go off correctly without setting the whole yard on fire.

Sammy slept most of the time and since he was sleeping peacefully I didn't wake him. I let Bobby gripe and worry that we were leaving too soon. I knew he'd be worried about that but that's also because he knows like I do that eventually someone's coming for us. This time, I'm ready for them. Angel, demon or hunter, I'll be ready. John Winchester didn't raise his sons to be fools and his oldest sure as hell ain't one.

While Bobby's getting a hose and a fire extinguisher ready, he honestly has very little faith in me, I go to wake Sam up when I notice the paper on the desk. Sammy's been doing the resolution bit while I was gone today. It would've been cute if I hadn't read what he wrote and fought the urge to crumple it.

Be a better brother? He damn well better not be talking about being one to me since he's always been the best brother I could've asked for. Sure, he's a geek, a nerd, a pain in my ass, but he's still my little brother and I…love him…there I said it. I know he's still blaming himself for crap he had no control over but to think that he has to be a better brother, God, I'm not sure if I should shake him for thinking it or slap myself for ever giving him the idea.

Earn the right to wear the jacket? Is that what he thinks? That to wear my jacket he has to earn that right? That he has to do something to prove that he deserves it? Damn, I so blame Dad for putting that crap in his head. Dad made Sammy feel so worthless most of the time that he still feels like that. The kid feels that with everything that's happened in his life, the stuff he's done that he has to prove to me that he deserves to wear Dad's jacket. He wants to make me proud? Hell, the kid's been making me proud since we were kids. I was proud of him the night he stood up to Dad and left for college…not happy about it, but proud of him.

So these are Sam's resolutions, huh? Well, that's fine because I now have a couple of my own. For starters, it's to make damn sure that no one touches my brother again. Then, it's to get my dorky brother to understand that he doesn't need to be a better anything. That he's Sammy and that's all I want from him. Finally, I'll have him in this jacket by this time next year if it kills me because I'll be damned if he'll feel he doesn't deserve it when I didn't do anything to deserve it from Dad.

Leaving the paper on the desk, I kneel down to eye level before I wake him. Waking Sammy up too quickly is a sure fire way to get slugged or have a knife at your throat…learned that the hard way when he was sixteen.

"Wake up, sunshine!" I called loudly, watching as hazel eyes open slowly to stare at me and I'm relieved to see they're clear, no shadows or leftover dreams attached. "C'mon, it's almost midnight so grab a jacket before I make you Eskimo Sammy again and get outside."

"Huh?" he mumbles sleepily but follows me out to the door where I'm shoving a heavy winter jacket onto him since I wasn't letting him out the door in just a hoodie. "Ball drops on TV, De'n," he muttered, using his good hand to rub sleep from his eyes.

"That mirrored ball is boring compared to what I have planned, little brother," I tell him, nudging him onto the porch where Bobby's waiting with that damn fire extinguisher. "Ye of little faith."

Bobby rolls his eyes at me, latches onto the puppy who was determined to tear into something and just glares at me. "You burn down my house and you're dying, Dean," he growled.

"Dean, what're you doing?" Sam asked, more awake now and more curious than ever.

Looking at my watch, I walked out to where I'd set up my surprise to pull out my lighter. "Remember Fourth of July 1996, Sammy?" I ask, seeing his eyebrows shoot up a second before Bobby yells something about not lighting them all at once which was too late since I'd lit the fuse and took off running. "Fire in the hole!" I yell on instinct.

I make it back to the porch an instant before the first roman candle shoots off, followed by the rest of the multiple types of fireworks that I'd bought and set up until the night air was nothing but bright multi-colored lights, shrilling whistles and explosions that make that night in the field in '96 look tame.

What makes it the best for me is when I hear my brother laugh the first time. Looking over, I see Sam stepping off the porch for a closer look to the sky and I see his full Sammy smile, eyes bright like I've haven't seem them in a long while.

As the second round of fireworks shoot off, I see that Bobby's taken the pup back inside, leaving just me and Sammy outside to watch the lighted sky even though I heard him muttering about the Sheriff probably going to be showing up.

"Dean?" I look over to see Sam looking at me and I don't miss the smile or the moisture in his eyes as he glances back up as another rocket shoots off. "Thank you…this is…well," he hesitated and I know the word he's looking for because I'm also thinking back to that night I bought fireworks for him.

"Yeah, it's awesome ain't it?" I look up then grin as I shift, already expecting the armful of little brother I soon had. "Happy New Year, Sammy," I murmur, holding on tight for a moment longer before turning so that I could keep an arm around his shoulders as we stood to watch the fireworks finale took off.

"Bobby's gonna kill us," he spoke a second later, laughing at the plume of bright lights just like he had as a kid. "Sheriff Mills won't be happy to come here this late."

Shifting my arm so I could get him in a mock chokehold and tustle his hair the way I knew would make him complain, I wait until he quit struggling to hold something out to him and see his eyes widen. "He'll forgive us…in the meantime…"

Waiting, I ease my grip so he could straighten and I drop the Impala's keys into his shaking hand. "…I'm driving," he finished, snapping his fingers closed around the keys just as Bobby opened the door to shout at us to get our asses inside before we both get sick and he's stuck with us for another six months. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam?" my hand's on the door to open it when I look to see my brother's eyes sparkling and I can tell what he's thinking so I offer a smirk. "You know, I made those rules, little brother, so I can break 'em."

"Yeah, but you won't," Sam grinned back and I know that I won't even if it means putting up with his music for the next few hundred miles.

Lightly pushing him inside, I squeeze his neck reassuringly before I see the puppy running out of the kitchen yipping and…

"Dean, I thought you said you exorcised that pork loin," Sam blinked as we heard the shotgun go off and Bobby screaming my name at the top of his lungs.

"I did. I forgot to salt the damn whole pig he wanted for tomorrow," I growled, shoving him toward the steps. "Get up there and pack. After I put a devil's trap in the kitchen and kill a pig we are so outta here, Sammy."

"Happy New Year, Dean," my brother's laughing as he scoops the puppy up and I reach for my .45 figuring that not everything can change at once…or Bobby's house would be boring to visit.

**The End**

**A/N: **I hope everyone enjoyed this. Turned out longer than I expected but then what do I write that doesn't? I wanted to give Sam and Dean a fresh start going into 2011 so who knows what might come in this series in the coming year? Thanks for reading and have a wonderful 2011!


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